Stories from 221b
by thesherlockian221b
Summary: A collection of one shots, and genre, and any prompt :):):) if you have a prompt you would like me to do, please just send it to me in a review and i will write them ASAP! :):):) thank you, this was inspired by mylovelymindpalace, (thank you xx) Rated T just in case... thanks for reading!
1. Sherlock and Molly PLaying Music

*The first prompt is from mylovelymindpalace themself!

Sherlock and Molly Playing Music Together:

Sherlock and Molly were in the flat, he was teaching her to play the violin, using it as a distraction from boredom, and he was much accustomed to trouble and problems learning to play this beautiful instrument. He understood the frustrations of not being able to pick the right string at the right time, of not being able to reach a certain point without an error. To play the violin was difficult as it did not require one's intelligence, so much as concentration, time and practise. Fortunately Sherlock had been bored one too many times over the last few months, so had perfected the art. Finding out that the delightful Molly Hooper had wanted to be taught by him had been a source of great excitement, something to quell the monster of boredom, constantly lurking in his mind, ready to pounce at any given moment. She had borrowed one of her friend's violins and was standing, struggling with a piece that he had perfected in mere days, nest to the window, as he liked to when he was having troubles with his musical side. She was improving though, her bow, sliding jerkily across the delicate strings to begin with, now skipped across them with a fluidness comparably only to a soaring bird. This was her 8th lesson with him and she was developing quite the musical ear, mind you, she was an exemplary pianist, playing since the tender age of 8, she was extremely accomplished in the field.

As the end of the lesson neared, she put down the violin after and almost perfect rendition of the piece she had been religiously practising and walked over to the piano that Mrs Hudson had had moved up to John and Sherlock's flat. Mrs Hudson had decided that it could be put in Sherlock's flat for a while, as she hardly ever played it anymore, and besides, their duets were beautiful music to listen to while doing the washing up, the landlady had informed them.

She looked at Sherlock and nodded a signal to play one of Sherlock's pieces that he had composed himself and they had perfected only last week. Her fingers brushed over the keys, gently nimbly dancing to the tune of Sherlock's violin, their notes merged together to form a melody that flew around the flat, before floating, like a trail of bubbles, out of the window into the streets of London. A smile spread over the landlady's face as she scrubbed a particularly vicious stain of her best frying pan; finally her old piano was being put to such wonderful use, to play Sherlock's beautiful music, that young man was very talented. Molly's hands spread up and down the keys, reaching notes of every pitch, Sherlock's eyes shut as he focused on the melody. As the melody came to an end, the exchanges elated smiles at having perfectly performed another piece

*If you want to suggest a prompt, then just leave a review with your prompt in it and I will write it as soon as I can :D:D:D:D*


	2. Sherlock and John Horse riding

John and Sherlock Horse riding- a prompt given to me by a friend

Sherlock sat in the taxi, his mind still reeling from the events of the past hour. He had complained that he was bored, numerous times and john had promptly stood up and proceeded to drag him out of the door, Sherlock had only just managed to seize his treasured coat and scarf as he was yanked out the door by john's, surprisingly iron, grip. He still didn't know where they were going; by the looks of John's smirk, it would not be the most enjoyable experience. They pulled up outside a small farm, Sherlock's confusion deepened, as John paid the taxi, it suddenly dawned on him.

"John, no, I am NOT doing this"

"Just relax Sherlock, you might enjoy it"

Sherlock huffed and stalked through the gates, followed by a rather nervous John, they go to the front desk and john asked for the two of them to go. Sherlock gave him a rather disgruntled look, and turned away to face the wall, refusing to look at his companion.

An hour, and a whole load of hassle, later, Sherlock was perched precariously on a horse, teeth gritted and shoulder tense. John was sitting, perfectly at ease, struggling to his laughter at his friend's discontented pout. The ex-army man clicked his tongue and the horse trotted to rest alongside Sherlock's. He laughed as the horse shook its head and Sherlock flinched dramatically, before straightening his coat, giving John an irritable sideways glance.

Halfway through their hack along the bridal path, Sherlock's horse started to misbehave, bobbing its head and refusing to slow down or speed up. Sherlock shouted ahead to John, bristling with irritation.

"See, the horse hates me; I told you this was a bad idea! I told you! Yet you still chose to put me on this- this beast!"

"Now really Sherlock is it all that bad" shouted John, before muttering "Anything's better than Cluedo!" under his breath.

Sherlock sighed and gripped the reins with his slender fingers, his knuckles turning white at his iron grip; the horse jerked its head and continued to jerk Sherlock's arms about, tormenting the detective and making him wince at the thought of how stiff his already tender shoulders would feel.

As they returned to the stable, John having heard every complaint Sherlock had in his arsenal, Sherlock's horse promptly shook and flicked its back end, causing Sherlock to fall into a pile of straw, next to a stable door! Sherlock sat, glaring at the horse; he could almost see the smug look on its face. He rose to his feet and pulled the horse sharply into a random stable, John was laughing too hard to reprimand him for the misjudgement of stable and looked on, eyes streaming with tears of laughter, He had a carrot in his coat pocket, given to him by John for the horse when he was back in the stable, instead, he marched up to the disobedient animal and took a bite of the carrot, in front of it. He then threw the carrot into a bin, turned and strode away, dialling the number of a cab driver.

He sat in silence on the way back; John could not help but grin and the detective's grumpy pout.

"John, my coat!" Sherlock reprimanded the blogger, "Its covered with straw… You are paying for the dry-cleaning!" He muttered, turning to stare, moodily out the window again

But, John though, for the look of incredulous fury on his face as he sat in the straw, it was worth a few quid!


	3. Sherlock Drunk in Kremlin

The Prompt for this one was "Sherlock Drunk in Kremlin" from DamnHarshCritic

The detective was swaying slightly, an uncharacteristically goofy grin on his face; he was celebrating with John after a particularly gruelling case involving arsenic, horses and pottery. He knew that he and Lestrade were giving him a myriad of drinks on purpose, but just this once he didn't mind. He looked around the bar, seeing John chatting with the short barmaid, Lestrade sitting an I chair, engrossed in conversation with Donovan, seemingly getting rather frustrated at her, she apparently didn't understand what he was telling her. He smiled when he saw Molly, clumsily making her way over to him. He had brought everyone over with him as they were the only people that would work with him (he assumed by the attitude of the Russian police after one small escapade!) and Lestrade had insisted that Donovan had to be here, regardless of Sherlock's protests!

Sherlock was not used to being tipsy, let alone drunk, John observed, watching the detective stumble across the room, leaning heavily on tables and chairs. He had imagined Sherlock drunk as him being like a small, know-it-all child. How right he was, Sherlock slumped on a chair and John paced round the table, sitting in a chair opposite him, watching that he didn't collapse off his chair.

"Are you alright Sherlock?" asked the concerned blogger, he had had less to drink, and he kept topping Sherlock up, especially for this titbit of entertainment! Sherlock slurred like a toddler, just learning to talk.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine, why wouldn't I be? I'm fine" he said, waving his hand, before letting his heavy arm flop onto the table again. He looked around the room and once again, John could see his annoyance at how is mouth was so much slower than his brain, his brain was seeing, observing, noticing things that needed to be said, while his mouth could only sing 80s charts.

At the end of the evening, John found Sherlock sitting in a corner, swiping the air with his hands and laughing hysterically at all the humorous things that he had filed away.


	4. Molly on Drugs

*The prompt for this was "Molly on Drugs" from the lovely SallyandMinda –hope you guys like it :D*

Sherlock burst into the flat, his eyes scanning the living room where John was sat, reading the paper, a half smile on his face.

"Well?"

John gave him a confused look.

"Where is she?" Sherlock asked, giving a sigh of annoyance at John's slowness

"Through there" John pointed at the door to Sherlock's room, s smirk on his face at the sight of Sherlock's expression "Where else was I meant to put her, the kitchen?"

Sherlock sighed and strode to his door, opening it slowly and silently in case the effects had worn off and she was sleeping, far from it, she was slumped a corner, laughing uncontrollable and pointing at s the left of the pair of slippers under his bed. Her eyes were unfocused and as Sherlock walked into the room she turned to stare at him, her mouth opening in a grin, she opened her mouth in a bid to try and speak, but she collapsed into a fit of giggles again, reaching out a hand and stroking his hair, pressing it down and collapsing into giggles when the curls bounced back up. Sherlock pushed her hand away with a slight frown on annoyance before pulling her to her feet and leading her to the Living room.

John supressed a laugh at seeing a harassed Sherlock leading high Molly into their living room, Molly pulled away from Sherlock and went to the fridge, Sherlock sighed at sat down next to John turning to ask him

"What happ-" Sherlock was cut off by a piercing scream from Molly.

"Oh Christ… The Head!" John threw his paper down and went to retrieve a scared and dazed Molly from the kitchen. Sherlock stood and paced to the kitchen, seeing a plate of brownies left on a tray. His face fell and his brows furrowed, his eyes scanned the sideboard for the bag he had confiscated from one of his "contacts" on the street. He found it next to some flour and a recipe book, turning around, he gave a groan as he saw the page it was turned to…Brownies!

He realised what must have happened, Mrs Hudson sees Molly and John and thinks she will bake them brownies, being slightly absent minded, she cooks some of his confiscated marijuana into them, John, obviously having started up his diet, doesn't eat them, Molly does, as she is trying to be polite, and ends up in the state she is now. He flipped the cook book shut and sighed, taking the plate of brownies and putting the whole plate in the bin.

He turned and walked back through to John, whispering what had happened to John while keeping a watchful eye on Molly, who was bouncing on the sofa and laughing, he walked over and Molly jumped up, a beautiful smile spreading across her face while she leapt up and pulled Sherlock into a waltz position, hearing the music from the radio Sherlock had playing, she lead him in a somewhat clumsy waltz round the room, before complaining she was tired and lying on the sofa. Sherlock picked her up and carried her gently to his room, putting her in bed, then taking a pillow to the sofa, where he would spend the night.

*There were several different ways i could have taken this, but the idea of Mrs Hudson accidentally baking it into the brownies was to good to not try:)*


End file.
